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by hawkewyrd



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:35:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28638621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkewyrd/pseuds/hawkewyrd
Summary: In some ways, the memory felt almost like a lifetime ago, yet in others, it felt as if no time had passed at all. For their relationship to change so drastically in such a short space of time, after years of circling one another, wary and calculating… It was something that Ryou had never even begun to think was possible, let alone hoped for.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: BIAT_Exchanges





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schadenfreudah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schadenfreudah/gifts).



> For Millie! I hope you enjoy the read

When the two were first reunited, they had been too busy trying to manage Bakura’s sudden reappearance in the world of the living to worry about the holidays.

Pushed to the limits of his patience, Ryou had been uncharacteristically short-tempered and bitingly sarcastic, borderline resentful of the former spirit’s presence in his home. Bakura, on the other hand, had drawn behind a toughened shell, deflecting all of his host’s questions, refusing to give the other man any chance to see what was happening inside his head.

The lack of communication had forced them both into a stalemate, resulting in almost two months of pregnant silences and bitter glares. When that thick layer of ice finally cracked, the resulting argument had very nearly shattered their fragile bond. In the wake which followed, both hesitant to break the silence, Ryou had almost decided to sever ties completely, questioning whether the spirit’s company was worth the needling silences and vicious remarks.

Bakura, slinking into his room at three in the morning, had proved him wrong. Ryou could only catch tiny glimpses of the spirit’s expression in the dim moonlight, unguarded and open in a way he’d never seen. Even now, the memory of his low, hushed voice in the dead of night brought an ease to Ryou’s chest, a warmth lent by the spirit’s trust, as cherished as it was hard-won.

In some ways, the memory felt almost like a lifetime ago, yet in others, it felt as if no time had passed at all. For their relationship to change so drastically in such a short space of time, after years of circling one another, wary and calculating… It was something that Ryou had never even begun to think was possible, let alone hoped for.

His gaze drifted to the photo tacked to their fridge; something so disgustingly domestic that its existence alone brought a smile to his face. The pair of mugs sitting on the counter, the shopping list bearing two vastly different sets of handwriting, the second pair of house slippers sitting in the doorway - all little things, subtle signs which would have been insignificant to anyone else.

Even now, when the apartment was silent, it still felt different. It was the silence of a temporary absence, the inhale of air before a spoken word; all too different from the silences he was familiar with.

Those silences still lingered, sometimes, waiting in the shadow. It was the finality of a dying breath; the stillness which followed a hurricane; the scar left behind by a slow-healing wound; the intangible weight of a distant gaze; the chilled tang of metal in the dark; all of them stifling and haunting and painful, as certain and inescapable as death itself.

Forcing himself back into the present, Ryou drew a deep breath, pushing the air into his lungs and grounding himself with the simple action. He looked down at the row of ghosts strung along the countertop, bearing bright smiles and rosy cheeks. Snickering quietly to himself, he reached over to turn on the power, watching as the string of lights flickered to life. 

Behind him, Ryou heard the quiet, muffled click of the door latch opening and closing, turning to see Bakura slinking through the front door. His gaze flicked from side to side, taking in the living room before his dark eyes came to rest on Ryou.

“I’ve been gone for three hours.”

“Yes.” Ryou smiled at the spirit’s flattened expression, watching as one of his eyebrows slowly rose. “What do you think?”

Slowly, Bakura shuffled further into the room, coming to stop next to the bookcase. He stretched out one hand to pick up a plastic pumpkin, looking bemused.

“Where did you get all of this?”

“Online.”

“Mm,” Bakura hummed, turning to take in the rest of the decorations. “How did you get all of it up this quickly?”

“Magic.” At Bakura’s unamused look, Ryou shrugged. “It didn’t really take me that long.”

“Mm.” Stepping into the kitchen, his gaze finally fell on the ghost lights behind Ryou’s back, and amusement finally flickered across his expression. “I would have helped.”

“I know,” Ryou chirped, flashing Bakura an unabashed grin. “I thought it would be fun to surprise you.”

After a long moment, Bakura turned his gaze toward him.

“Should… I expect this for other holidays?”

“Not this much, no. I just like Halloween.”

“I know,” Bakura drawled, lips curling into a wry smile.

After a moment, Ryou bit his lip, glancing at the rest of the room.

“I… hadn’t thought about it, actually. We could decorate for Christmas - I usually don’t bother.” His eyebrows furrowed, he raised a hand to scratch idly at his jaw, letting the sentence trail off. The former spirit watched him silently, waiting. “We could? That might be nice. We could get a tree, maybe - I don’t think I’ve got any ornaments, so we’d have to buy some.”

“Do you want to?”

Ryou turned slightly to take in Bakura’s weighted expression, his dark gaze unreadable.

“I- yes. I think I do.”

“Then we will.”

Bakura watched closely as several emotions skittered across Ryou’s face in quick succession. He caught the heavy, brooding fatigue which shadowed his expression for a split-second before it disappeared, brightening into something he was beginning to become accustomed to - an easy, effortless smile which softened Ryou’s deep brown eyes.

“I bought candy, too.”

“Naturally.”

Ryou almost hadn’t caught it, at first. He’d been neck-deep in campaign planning, covered in clay and paint up to his elbows - so when the door rang, and Bakura offered to answer it, Ryou had simply thought that he was being helpful.

Except, the following morning, Ryou caught him peering through the keyhole, looking oddly frustrated.

That same afternoon, they’d been watching a cheesy sitcom, halfway through a heated discussion about the finer points of black comedy in horror films, when they’d heard the rap of someone knocking on the door. Bakura had already launched himself halfway across the room before he’d realised it was, in fact, coming from the on-screen actress, and not their apartment door.

The day after that, a neighbour had knocked on their front door. Before Ryou could react, Bakura had already answered the door, spat at the man to leave, and immediately slammed it closed again. Then promptly spent the next few minutes glaring through the peephole, assumedly waiting to see if the man tried again.

In the week since, Bakura had become increasingly short-tempered, jumping at any kind of loud noise and audibly expressing his frustration when it was not, in fact, someone knocking on the front door.

“Are you alright?” Ryou finally asked, watching Bakura slink back into the room with one measly envelope, irritation blooming across his face at the bright red ‘bill’ stamped on the front.

“Fine.”

“You’ve been jumping at loud noises, making irritated grunts at the neighbours, and watching the front door like an overprotective parent.”

Bakura grunted.

“Like that, yes.” He squinted. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.” With that, Bakura disappeared down the hall into their shared bedroom, leaving Ryou alone with his book.

The following afternoon, Ryou was working on a figurine when he heard the rap of knuckles on the apartment door. He paused in his work, turning slightly as he listened to Bakura’s near-silent footsteps, immediately followed by the click of the door latch. There was a longer, silent pause before the door clicked shut, absent of Bakura’s previous grunts and frustrated grumbling.

A few seconds later, the former spirit appeared in the doorway, something unfamiliar flittering around the edges of his expression. He held out the box in his hands, gesturing for Ryou to take it.

“Open it.”

Frowning, Ryou set down the figurine and his paintbrush, cleaning his hands on a rag.

“What is it?”

“Just open it.”

His lips flattened into a thin line, Ryou flashed him a dubious look, reaching to take the parcel from his hands.

“You ordered something? Online?”

“Yes.” Bakura watched him expectantly, looking frustrated when Ryou didn’t immediately move to open the box. “Yes, I used a computer, now open the box.”

“But how did you get-”

“Just-” Bakura huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Ryou.”

“Alright!” Bemused, he looked down at the cardboard, tearing back the packing tape with his fingernails. “Is this why you’ve been hovering by the front door for the last week?”

The room remained silent, and Ryou might have spared the former spirit another glance, had he not felt the distinct, soft texture of fabric beneath his fingertips. He tugged open the top of the box, slowly pulling out the sweater inside.

It was soft beneath his fingertips, with orange, purple, black and yellow stripes of knitted fabric, each bearing a different theme. Skulls, black cats, moons and stars, jack’o’lanterns, bats, gravestones, and at the top, a series of stereotypical cartoon ghosts. Pulling it free of the box, he glanced down, spotting a second one underneath the first.

“You… Are these...?” Ryou gathered the sweater in his lap, gazing down at the colourful fabric instead of meeting Bakura’s gaze.

“Matching sweaters.” His voice, albeit hushed, still rung with a quiet contentment, bordering on smugness. “You mentioned holidays.” After a long pause, he exhaled audibly, and Ryou finally looked up. Bakura watched him silently, waiting, attempting to gauge his reaction. Past the attempt at coolness, Ryou could pick out the self-satisfaction in his expression, and past that, found the softness creeping into the corners of his faint smile.

“I did, yes.” Ryou laughed, quietly, glancing to the side as he blinked the sudden tears away.

A calloused, warm hand on his cheek guided his face back, meeting Bakura’s gaze as the spirit stared back at him, unjudging, kneeling on the floor in front of him. His lips twitched, catching himself before he could say something, and by now, Ryou knew him well enough to pick out the subtext.

Smiling, Ryou leant forward to press a kiss to his lips, resting his forehead against Bakura’s.

“Thank you.”

His spirit hummed quietly in response, thumb tracing faint, gentle circles along the edge of Ryou’s cheekbone.


End file.
